The Starfleet Lark
by Lucillia
Summary: It had to be fate that the U.S.S. Troutbridge's crew included an avid angler named Stanton, a Navigator named Phillips who caused more destruction to Starfleet property than every war they'd been involved in to that point combined, and one of the rather extensive Pertwee clan who was naturally there to follow family tradition and make a profit at Starfleet's expense amongst others.
1. Triumphal Return

Commodore Povey winced as he saw what ship was due to arrive at Spacedock that day for a retrofit. He'd given them a five-year mission to get them out of his hair despite the fact that some would question the sanity of sending a scoutship on a mission that would severely tax the resources of a Constitution class vessel, and now that five-year reprieve had come to an end. There was nothing he could do about it however. The U.S.S. Troutbridge was once again his problem...

As Povey sat in his office downing Aspirin like water and considering taking something stronger like strychnine for instance, two maintenance workers who were on break were standing in front of a transparasteel window near the entrance to one of the docking bays and watching traffic.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Maintenance worker Smith said to his partner as he watched a shuttle streak past between the Spacedock and Earth like a silvery fish darting through a lake. "This is what I signed up for."

"I know." Maintenance worker Jonson sighed as the Spacedock rotated to give the two a view of the stars and any incoming traffic from that direction. From the looks of things a rather battered Hermes class scout was coming in for a retrofit.

"I say, doesn't that ship look like it's coming in a bit fast?" Maintenance worker Smith asked as he watched the Hermes class vessel approach.

"Oh shit, it's the Troutbridge! Run!" Maintenance worker Jones yelled, dropping his sandwich and taking his own advice.

Without even thinking about it, Maintenance worker Smith followed after.

* * *

Captain Stanton sighed as he imagined the sort of fishing he'd get in during his leave while Starfleet decided how best to repair the Troutbridge. Either that, or how best to dismantle it and sell it for scrap which was something that Chief Engineer Pertwee had been slowly doing over the course of their mission. Speaking of the devil, he was on the bridge rather than in Engineering where he belonged, especially since they were coming into Spacedock.

He turned to look at the offending engineer.

"Ensign Johnson's got everything under control." Pertwee said before looking down at the communique from home.

"Cousin Stall is going on trial again." Pertwee said after half a minute of reading. "Apparently the Vulcan High Council didn't see the logic in selling off some science vessels that were just gathering dust."

Turning back to the viewscreen, Stanton noticed that Spacedock was getting awfully, awfully close. At Navigation, Lieutenant Phillips was muttering "Left hand down a bit". The captain was halfway out of his chair when Pertwee bellowed "EVERYBODY DOWN!".

With an almighty crash and a screech of metal on metal as the ship ran along the hull of Spacedock until it reached the open doors, spun for a short distance in the open space of the interior, and collided with the docking bay that had been set aside for it, the Troutbridge was home.


	2. The Mystery of the Swimming Pool

It is now time for a brief commercial break which is to be read in the voice of your favorite voice-over artist/announcer.

For those of you wondering where I picked up the Troutbridge and her crew, I would recommend having a listen to The Navy Lark which originally ran from 1959 to 1977 if you can. It's a British radio show about a crew of "misfit" sailors that starred Jon Pertwee amongst others which is absolutely hilarious. You can legally find it on the BBC website. The episode they currently have up is absolutely hilarious.

"I know you, you're that fellow who glowed at me and shouted 'Help!' from eight feet up in the air."

For those of you who will now probably complain about this being a crossover despite the fact that it's more of a fusion, this website doesn't have a "Navy Lark" category.

Now, back to our irregularly scheduled program...

* * *

As Commander Price walked through the corridors of Starfleet Headquarters he felt somewhat apprehensive. Old Thunderguts had told him he had good news for him, but Commodore Povey never called with good news. About the only times Povey ever called were when he wanted to scream himself hoarse at the command crew, and when he wanted to drop them into some sort of trouble that was disguised as a mission. Thanks to Old Thunderguts, his "Not Received" file was taking up a good sized chunk of the Troutbridge's computer's memory.

Despite the fact that he'd pulled a Lieutenant Phillips, he eventually found himself in front of the door to Commodore Povey's office.

"Come in!" Povey barked.

"You wanted to see me sir?" Commander Price said as he entered the office wondering what sort of situation he was going to be dumped into this time.

"Ah yes, Commander Price." Commodore Povey said, looking up at him from the datapad on his desk which was displaying something that clearly wasn't good for his blood pressure. "I was going to inform you that your transfer to the Potemkin has been approved."

"Sir?" he said, not quite believing what he was hearing.

"Didn't you hear me the first time? You're off the Troutbridge." Commodore Povey snapped.

Commander Price barely restrained his sudden urge to run through the corridors of Starfleet Headquarters cheering. Instead, he found himself using the phrase he usually used when he'd gotten something over on the Chief Engineer, and sometimes even Commodore Povey himself.

"Grand morning, isn't it?" he said with a grin.

"Before you go Price, there's a little mystery I would like solved." Commodore Povey said.

"Yes?" he asked, feeling a creeping dread.

"When maintenance did their initial walkthrough of the Troutbridge, they noticed a problem with the swimming pool." Commodore Povey replied.

"You'll have to ask the Chief Engineer about that one." he said, relaxing slightly since the Commodore wasn't asking about the million and one other problems, such as the fact that one of the shuttles was technically MIA.

"I was afraid of that." Commodore Povey said with a sigh before dismissing Price and ordering his Yeoman to do whatever it took to get ahold of the Troutbridge's Chief of Engineering.

"Can you make this quick sir? I'm due to be on the next ship to Vulcan, seeing as I'm going to be part of my cousin Stall's defense. We're going to tell them he couldn't help it since it's Genetical like." Chief Engineer Pertwee said the moment he appeared on the comm screen in Commodore Povey's office.

Povey raised an eyebrow at the man's apparently deliberate mangling of Federation Standard. There were times when the attempt to reclaim regional accents from the prevalent Anglo-American one which had taken over in recent generations went completely overboard. A few members of the Enterprise crew that he could name were prime examples of this.

"Genetical?" Povey asked somewhat incredulously since that sounded like something a five year-old would say.

"He gets it from his father's side of the family sir." Pertwee said faux mournfully. "It's an unfortunate fact that back in the days before Surak, the whole bloomin' lot of them were thieves."

"Be that as it may," Commodore Povey said. "The reason I'm calling is that Commander Price informed me that you could enlighten me as to the reason behind the current status of the Troutbridge's swimming pool, which is, according to the report I received from Maintenance, quote 'exceedingly murky and full of fish'."

"Well, we had to keep the Captain busy between M Class planets somehow." Pertwee said before turning and looking over his shoulder. "Beggin' your pardon sir, but my ship's boarding."

"Fine." Commodore Povey sighed deciding that he didn't want the headache and the blackmail that would result if he mentioned the shuttle that turned up in an impound lot on Rigel III on top of the usual headache that was the Troutbridge. Especially since, according to the report on his desk, there was an identically marked and registered shuttle sitting in the Troutbridge's shuttlebay.

"Thank you sir." Pertwee said before closing communications.

Povey popped another aspirin despite the fact that he was dangerously bordering on an overdose and could hear the ringing in his ears that was a sign of one. One of these days, he was going to actually manage to get rid of the Troutbridge and her crew who'd been a thorn in his side for ages. Despite the fact that a massive amount of damage was done to Spacedock thanks to Lieutenant Phillips' "Navigating", his superiors had informed him that that day would not be today. Until that wondrous day which he knew would eventually come, he would have to bear it, and hope the Troutbridge stayed away from anywhere they could cause catastrophic damage.

With Lieutenant Phillips' Navigating, there wasn't much of a chance of that.

He was still trying to figure out how war hadn't broken out the last time the Troutbridge had ended up in the middle of Romulan space. The only information he'd gotten on that one was a comment from Chief Engineer Pertwee about stopping to visit his cousin Ael since they were already there.

* * *

**Omake:**

The Troutbridge encounters the Botany Bay instead of the Enterprise:

"Empty space for lightyears in every direction, and you Lieutenant Phillips have managed to navigate us into the path of the only object in the entire region."

"Oh lumme! Shouldn't we check for survivors?"

"No need. My Nunkie Ebeneezer's already salvaging it. If there's anyone aboard, he'll salvage them too."

"For a price of course."

"Of course for a price. What do you think we are, free transit?"

"We?"

"Of course we, there isn't room on Nunkie's craft for anyone but Nunkie."

"Your Nunkie just called. He says that there wasn't anyone aboard, and that the Khan Noonian Singh account has been permanently closed."

"The poor chap. If he'd gone and done business with us Pertwees proper like...But, if anyone had to go... None did the Pertwees rotten as bad as him. Tried to root us out you know. A proper genocide."

"Genoc-...Exactly how many Pertwees are there?"

"Too many to count sir. Too many to count."


End file.
